Digging In: A Novel(11)

I wasn’t entirely sure it did—I’d forgotten my glasses—but the compliment seemed to work. Glynnis nodded and directed everyone’s attention back to the whiteboard behind her. She finished up, and after offering her some generic compliments, Lukas called Jackie to the front.

Jackie had dressed up, which for her meant her usual look dialed up a notch. Creased mom jeans. Frosted lipstick. I could see the curling iron marks in her hair. She wore a button-up shirt with a pink tank underneath. She looked fantastic. Like a suburban, middle-aged Lita Ford.

Up went Jackie’s ad. She’d used a stock photo, a cute, freckled kid about to stick his fingers into a jar of jam. In bold font at the bottom, it read: This is only going to get better.

“Nice job,” I mouthed to her.

The others sat silent, turning their heads and attention from the ad to Lukas. “What do we think?” he asked, and I could tell from the tilt of his head that he knew exactly what he thought.

“It’s cute,” I said loudly. “Appeals to both mothers and kids. I can see bits of fruit in the jam, which makes it seem natural and wholesome.”

Jackie flashed me a quick smile.

Rhiannon clucked her tongue, which I was fairly certain was the most annoying sound in the world. “I’m not so sure,” she said slowly, pretending to ponder my contribution. “Mothers and kids? Haven’t we all agreed using that demographic is dated and pointless? How many mothers still make their kids’ lunches? And anyway, they’re already buying jam—shouldn’t we be targeting the people who would normally pass it by?”

Lukas nodded sagely. “Go on.”

Rhiannon unwound her legs from their yogic position and straightened up. “Well, I hate to use the word ‘hip’ . . .”

Lukas laughed. “We all hate to use that word. You’re not alone.”

The others nodded so vigorously I worried for their cervical spines.

“I just think the whole point of this assignment was to focus on fresh. This doesn’t feel fresh. I’m not saying it’s bad, Jackie—”

“Oh, no,” Jackie said quickly. “Of course not. Because it isn’t.”

“Jackie,” Lukas warned.

Jackie’s voice wobbled when she said, “I’ve been doing this for thirty years.”

“That’s apparent,” Rhiannon said under her breath.

Lukas steepled his fingers, and I readied myself for a lecture. “We know you’re experienced, Jackie, but collaboration must be part of our process if we’re to succeed. This isn’t a critique session—it’s, as Petra calls it, a group exploration into the possible. Do you understand how that works?”

“Perfectly.” Jackie switched off her laptop and took her seat.

“Paige?”

“What?” I’d been so distracted by Jackie’s defeat that I hadn’t realized Lukas had recalibrated his laser beam stare for me.

“You have the next opportunity.”

“Opportunity for what?”

“You’re up,” he said tersely.

Working in advertising had taught me to think on my feet, but this required more than a quick joke or a tossed-off tagline. Lukas’s expression, a slightly predatory look of anticipation, clued me in on how important my success was, and I basically had nothing. An idea had occurred to me as I rushed through the kitchen, but it was so fuzzy and unfinished I knew it would look exactly like what it was—my very last resort.

I pulled the ziplock bag from my purse and walked to the front. Six heads tilted, and fingers began punching at laptops.

“Did you send it to everyone?” Rhiannon asked.

“Er, no. What I have is a visual presentation.”

Puzzled, she kept tapping at her keyboard. “What do you mean? Did you post something to YouTube?”

“No, I brought something with me.” During the endless walk to the front of the room, my brain was like a contestant on Supermarket Sweep, dashing around my skull and grabbing whatever it could. Trembling, I took the cardboard plate from the plastic bag and held it up to the whiteboard. The beetroot cake had left a circular mahogany stain, crumbs stuck to the center. Splashes of red wine dotted the space surrounding it, along with a dark smear of dirt.

I pointed to the one remaining white spot. “Imagine a line printed here that reads, ‘When a vegan clears her plate, you know it was good!’”

Seth groaned.

Lukas leaned forward. “Seth, can you verbalize what you feel is the issue with Paige’s ad?”

“She’s insulted vegans, the main demographic for the product,” Seth said disdainfully. “It isn’t funny enough to get away with it.”

“I thought it was pretty funny,” Jackie contributed.

Rhiannon ignored her. “The line sucks, but the image isn’t bad. We could work with it.”

We. My presentation was shit, but it was mine. “I could rewrite it. The concept isn’t—”

“Isn’t right,” Glynnis quietly offered. “But it could be, Paige, and then the ad would be fine. Good, even.”

She meant well. I smiled weakly in her direction.

“Let’s help her out,” Lukas said, sweeping his arm to encompass everyone but me. “How can we make this ad shine?”